Yep, he foresaw twelve passion-filled weeks stretching ahead of him. That was almost three months. A nice run of time, about the time it usually took for him to start feeling the first twinges ofboredom.
As long as he was clear, there’d be no hard feelings. She’d get a date for the wedding from hell, he’d find out if the book really worked, and they’d both have some healthy adultfun.
It was a terrificplan.
What could possibly gowrong?
“ARE YOU COMPLETELY insane?”Therese’s forehead was creased, her eyes bugged and her mouthgaped.
They’d ducked into the female staff washroom for a hurried conversation between classes. Shari’d been so eager to spill her news she couldn’t wait until afterschool.
“You look surprised. I thought you’d bethrilled.”
“Thrilled about you playing love doctor with some guy you don’t evenknow?”
Therese checked her reflection in the scratched mirror and hauled out her cosmetic bag. She dipped a finger into a little plastic pot, smearing glossy pink goo onto her full lips. A hint of strawberry scented the air, and Shari shook her head. It was the kind of cosmetic the students used. Somehow it worked on Therese—the hip, young clothes, funky hair and strawberry-scented lipgloss.
“Does that stuff taste like strawberries,too?”
Therese touched her pink tongue to her full upper lip and nodded. “Yeah, it does. Wantsome?”
“No, thanks. I want to know why you don’t think this is a good idea. He’s willing to learn. If I help him get started on the path to becoming a great lover, I’ll have helped all woman-kind.”
Therese just rolled her eyes and pulled out a pink plastic brush. As she dragged it through her glossy black hair, she glared at Shari from the mirror. “First, how old ishe?”
She shrugged. “Maybethirty?”
“When did he first start havingsex?”
“I don’tknow.”
“I’ll bet he’s had ten to fifteen years of practice, and he still can’t get it right. I mean, come on. I’ve been playing the saxophone for that long. Do you ever hear me play a wrongnote?”
Not only was Therese a talented amateur, but she’d earned her living as a musician in Montreal and Paris before deciding to become a teacher. “No. You never play a wrong note. But you had to learnhow.”
“Hon, some kids have a tin ear. They are never going to play an instrument without making you cringe. Some people can’t dance. Some can’t play sports.” Sheshrugged.
“And some are never going to be good lovers. Is that yourpoint?”
Therese put her brush away and zipped her bag. “I’m saying, he’s had a lot of years to get itright.”
“My mother went back to university at sixty to earn the history degree she always wanted.” The school bell shrilled, echoing off the dull green tiles on the wall, letting them know they had to hustle to class. “She’s carrying a four-point average,” Shari said as she pulled open the door and held it for herfriend.
“We aren’t talking history.”
“I think you can improve at anything if you’re willing to work atit.”
“Fifty bucks says you don’t last out themonth.”
As they joined the milling crowd of teens headed for classes, Shari whispered, “Done. Fifty itis.”
Of course, Therese didn’t know this was a side bet. Shari already had one major deal going with Luke. If she didn’t need a spectacular specimen of manhood—at least on the outside—as her date for B.J.’s wedding, well, maybe she wouldn’t have jumped at the opportunity to take on some one-on-one tutoring atnight.
Although, she thought as she entered her classroom, it was kind of flattering that Luke had chosen her to be his teacher. He must see her as a sensual woman ofexperience.
She grinned smugly to herself. Maybe she wasn’t a virtuoso of the saxophone, but she had hidden talents. Luke could have chosen a lotworse.
The usual start-of-class shuffling and noise greeted her. She stowed her bag in the drawer of the scarred oak desk, took a deep breath and intoned in a strong, clear voice, “‘Death be notproud!’”
